They say Taylor was a good girl, never one to be late complain, express ideas in her brain. Working on the night passing out the tickets, your gonna have to pay her if you want to park here.
Well mommy's dancer is quite a little secret Working on the streets now, never gonna keep it. It's an imposition and now she's only wishin That she would have listened to the words they say...Poor Taylor.
She just wanders around, unaffected by, the winter winds yeah, she'll pretend that She's somewhere else, so far and clear about two thousand miles, from
Peter Patrick pitter patters on the window, but Sunny's silhouette won't let him in. Poor old Pete's got nothing cuz he's been falling, And Sunny knows just where he's been.
He thinks that singin on Sunday's gonna save his soul, now that Saturday's gone. And sometimes he thinks that he's on his way, but i can see, that his brake lights ARE on.
He just wanders unaffected by, the winter winds yeah, and he'll pretend that, he's somewhere else, so far and clear, about two thousand miles...from here
Such a tough enchilada, up with nada, givin what you gotta give to get a dollar bill. Used to be a limber chick n' times have been tickin, now she's finger lickin to the man, With the money in his pocket, flying his rocket, only stopping by on his way to a better world.
If Taylor finds a better world, then Taylor's gonna run away.